


30 Days of Destiel Drabbles [2016 Edition]

by destieldrabblesdaily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mostly fluff anyway, Various Destiel Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destieldrabblesdaily/pseuds/destieldrabblesdaily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short, fluffy Destiel drabble every day, for the next 30 days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

“Cas, you _can’t_ …” Dean choked out, gaping at Castiel with weary green eyes, strong yet trembling hands grabbing Castiel’s shoulders in a way that was almost painful now that Castiel was no longer immortal and invincible. “It’s _too much_.”

Castiel smiled, soft and reassuring, unaffected by Dean’s doubts. Dean was wrong, of course. It was a lot, yes. But not too much. Never too much. Not when it came to him and Dean. Therefore Castiel didn’t hesitate at Dean’s protest, confidently securing the necklace around Dean’s neck like he’d intended to.

As they sat there on the edge of the bed, Dean blinked down, as did Castiel. Two pairs of eyes were glued to the tiny pendant now resting against Dean’s broad chest, the unearthly light glowing within the small cage of glass painting their shared bedroom in icy blue.

“I made my decision, Dean… I want to be human and grow old with you. The only thing I need in return is to make sure that the part of me missing is with you as well.” Castiel admitted, hoping to put both himself and the man he loved at ease, taking both of Dean’s hands in his. “This way you’ll always know that you have _all_ of me. Can you do that for me? Keep all of me with you?”

Ducking his head and hiding his face against Castiel’s shoulder, Dean shakily laughed away what Castiel knew had to be nerves. Dean’s breath was hot against the side of Castiel’s throat, and Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, keeping him as close as he possibly could, their chests pressed together.

“Shit… This is crazy, man.” Dean feebly objected one last time, mumbling against Castiel’s neck. “That’s your grace in there, it would be like giving away your freaking heart to someone or something.”

“Yes…” Castiel whispered into Dean’s hairline, eyes dropping to Dean’s chest when he brushed a kiss against Dean’s jaw, pleased that Dean was finally getting it. “ _Exactly_.”


	2. Day 2

Angel.

Human.

Everything in between.

Castiel has been there, has done that. He used to think that it mattered. That it mattered to Dean. That it mattered to himself.

“I’m so… tired, Cas. Let’s go… to bed.”

Dean is mumbling -head resting in Cas’ lap- half asleep, half awake. The couch is a bit small for two grown men, and Castiel is sure that Dean’s muscles are sore by now. Not long ago, Castiel would’ve touched Dean’s forehead, magically transporting Dean to his room. _Their_ room. 

Human now, Castiel only has one other option…

He gets up from the couch, then gently lifts Dean up in his arms. Dean is heavy, but nothing that Castiel can’t take, even now that he’s powerless, _human._

As Dean sighs happily, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck and holding him even in his sleep, Castiel realizes something important about himself.

He doesn’t need wings to fly. He doesn’t need grace to heal. He doesn’t need immortality to know that certain things last forever.

When they’re curled up together under the covers, embraced by memory foam, all Castiel knows is that he’s thankful for being alive in some form, for just being _here._


	3. Day 3

“Dean wait… Where are you going?”

Sam tries to sound casual as he fires the question at his older brother, arching an eyebrow to make a statement, but at the same time hoping that it doesn’t sound too much like an accusation.

Dean pauses in the kitchen’s doorway, glancing at Sam over his shoulder, green eyes regarding him almost guiltily. Sam is not impressed in the slightest, still determined to find out why his brother has been spending such an insane amount of time in the bunker’s garage lately. Surely he has to be _hiding_ something. Something bad. Something terrible, possibly apocalypse level. Sam has tried to let it go, he truly has, but he’s getting more worried with every day that passes. He has to get Dean to talk; not talking is what always gets them into trouble in the first place.

“Nothing to worry about, Sammy.” Dean awkwardly clears his throat, deliberately averting his gaze. “Told you the other day… Just spending some quality time with my baby.”

Before Sam has a chance to call his brother out on his bullshit, Dean rushes out of the room.

“Of course, _your car_.” Sam mockingly mutters under his breath. “Always your favorite alibi, huh?” 

Dean is lying, there’s no other plausible explanation for his odd behavior. This has to stop, and so Sam marches out of the kitchen with a mission.

The younger Winchester doesn’t know what to expect when he sneaks after his brother, and his stomach twists when he’s about to open the door that leads to the garage. Is Dean trying to summon demons there? Practicing witchcraft? Contacting Crowley? Sam sighs at that last thought as he slowly pushes the door open with unsteady hands.

His jaw drops when he immediately gets the answers that he’s been looking for since last week.

Dean is definitely close to his car, but he’s not alone. A certain blue-eyed angel has him pinned against the hood. They’re both ruffled, all messy hair and wrinkled clothes, kissing frantically, hands roaming.

Both men look up at the loud gasp that Sam fails to hold back, their faces flushed, Dean’s cheeks a deep crimson.

There’s a silence, until Dean shrugs apologetically while Castiel attempts to hide a low chuckle against Dean’s shoulder. The look that Dean is giving Sam seems to spell the words _‘I was planning to tell you’._

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam says exasperatedly, directing his most impressive eye roll at both his brother and their guardian angel, but secretly also relieved that nothing worrisome is going on with Dean.

“Yeah… I told you, eh Sammy?” Dean deadpans as he timidly rubs Cas’ lower back in what clearly is a soothing gesture, flashing Sam a toothy grin. “Just spending some quality time with _my baby.”_


	4. Day 4

“Dean? What would be the most efficient way to ask someone out on a date?”

Dean nearly choked on his donut at the question that sounded all too casual coming from his best friend. He shifted in his seat to look at Cas, still a bit baffled. The angel was eyeing him patiently, the look in those blue eyes slightly anxious.

The two of them were in Dean’s car, parked on the side of the road, keeping an eye on the supposedly haunted house not too far from the bunker. It was already getting dark outside, but for now, nothing interesting was happening.

“I… ehm…” Dean trailed off, putting away his snack, not feeling all that hungry all of the sudden.

Cas _liked_ someone. Cas liked someone enough to want to ask them out on a date. _A date_. Cas going out on a date. With someone who wasn’t Dean. The mere thought made Dean sick to his stomach, but who was he to comment on that? He’d never had the guts to ask Cas out himself, and if Cas had found someone that he liked… Dean knew that the right thing to do was to support his friend.

“Honestly, I don’t know man.” He confessed, heaving a sigh. “I can’t even remember the last time I tried to take someone out on a real date.”

Castiel’s face fell at that disappointing piece of advice.

“But hey, a guy as good-looking as you, I guess that asking nicely will get the job done.” He added with a faint smile, reminding himself that he wanted to help Cas, even if he didn’t like the thought of someone stealing Cas’ heart. “Do that soul staring crap with those big blues of yours and say _please_ , and I’m pretty positive that you won’t get a no.”

“I see…” Castiel mused, the smallest of smiles lingering around his lips, eyes lighting up with freshly found optimism.

The angel tilted his head a little, looking at Dean through thick lashes. It made Dean’s mouth go dry, and he coughed helplessly.

“Is there- I mean… Something else you needed?” Dean probed, voice unsteady.

The look that Cas was giving him made him nervous, and his heart was silently breaking at the thought of giving Castiel some more dating advice.

“Just one more thing…” Castiel replied quietly, blinking at Dean. “Will you go out with me, Dean Winchester?”

Rendered speechless, all Dean could do was stare back. That sure was a plot twist if Dean had ever seen one.

 _“Please?”_ Cas added hastily, as if that single magic word was the key to success.

When Dean found his voice again, he enthusiastically blurted out “Yes! Hell yeah.”

Cas’ smile was radiant, and he grinned even wider when Dean experimentally reached for his hand.

“Thank you for the advice, Dean.” He said pleasantly as he allowed their fingers to lace together, their gazes holding. “Your tips turned out to be _very_ useful.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Apparently he was now officially dating a smartass. Two could play that game.

“Yeah well, what can I say, Cas?” He responded teasingly before he went in for a kiss, only to mumble the last part against Cas’ lips. “ _I’m awesome_.”

No case was solved that night. Dean figured that there was always tomorrow.


	5. Day 5

Castiel is mildly befuddled when he passes Dean in the doorway on his way to the kitchen, Dean pointing up with an expression that’s slightly nervous but also a little _too_ innocent. Following Dean’s gaze, he spots the little green plant hanging over their heads. Mistletoe _._ Castiel knows exactly what that human tradition means.

He hears how Dean chuckles shakily, green eyes blinking slowly when Castiel lowers his stare to look at his friend again.

“Sam is such a nerd, huh?” Dean mutters, all nonchalance. “Told him that Mistletoe would be pointless in this bunker… Only dudes here.”

Castiel can feel Dean’s breathing as they’re standing there, chest to chest, neither of them moving away. And he knows that look on Dean’s face, knows it like the back of his hand. Dean is _lying_. More importantly; Dean is lying because he _wants something_.

When Castiel’s brain puts two and two together, he realizes what that something is, and he feels his own excitement grow, his grace singing with it. He decides that playing along will benefit the both of them in this situation, and he gives Dean a nudge in the right direction.

“But now that we’re here, Dean… Perhaps it would be wise to honor the tradition, just in case.” Castiel suggests offhandedly, like it’s not all that big of a deal, hesitantly bringing up a hand to loosely place it against the side of Dean’s neck. “For good luck.”

“Yeah…” Dean whispers back dazedly as he leans into the touch, his eyes hungrily dropping to Castiel’s lips. “For good luck.”

In a rush, lips meet in the middle. Dean tastes even better than Castiel ever could’ve hoped. They get lost in that kiss that lasts way longer than the customary Mistletoe kiss, fingers running through hair, neither of them pulling away, not until Sam interrupts them with a pointed cough. Dean turns beet red, and his brother rolls his eyes as he quickly moves past them.

“Honestly, Dean?” The younger Winchester sighs theatrically. “ _Mistletoe?”_

The look Dean gives Castiel once Sam is out of sight, is clearly an apology. Castiel doesn’t want an apology though; he simply needs another kiss, and so he cracks a smile and points up like Dean had done earlier.

Relieved, Dean gives in right away, breathlessly laughing when Castiel chastises him by whispering the word “liar” against his lips between slow, deep kisses.

Castiel knows then and there that his first real Christmas is going to be perfect.


	6. Day 6

“I wish I had wings… That way I could simply fly to you whenever I miss you.”

Castiel voiced his desires over the phone, his own sadness relentlessly creeping up on him.

On the other end of the line, there was a wistful sigh from his boyfriend Dean. “Yeah… me too, Cas. Having wings sounds pretty good right about now.”

Castiel laughed softly, shaking his head as he shifted in his desk chair. “We both know you don’t mean that, flying terrifies you, you’re afraid to even go near a plane .”

Dean laughed too, not bothering to deny what they both knew was the truth. It was followed by a comfortable silence that stretched on; They sometimes did this, this thing where they merely listened to each other’s breathing, as if being in each other’s presence but not feeling the need to fill the silence with small talk.

It was tough, going to different colleges that were states apart, but if there were two people who could make this long distance thing work, Castiel firmly believed with his whole being that it would be him and Dean.

They’d been planning to meet, this weekend. Both of them had a short break, but sadly, things didn’t go as planned. Castiel still had an important essay to finish, and even though Dean had been willing to visit Castiel at his college for moral support and to finally be in each other’s arms again after three long months of waiting, they were both aware that their break was too short for the three day road trip that it would take Dean to get there.

“Hey Cas? I miss you too, in case you were wondering…” Dean mumbled into the phone after a while, ending the silence.

Castiel smiled at that admission, but before he could reply, there was a knock on his door. Groaning exasperatedly, Castiel got up to answer it, annoyed because someone dared to interrupt his most important call of the day.

“One second, Dean.” He muttered, still keeping the phone at his ear as he opened the door, preparing to glower at whoever was interfering with his Dean-time.

No glowering occurred. Instead, Castiel gasped, the phone slipping from his trembling fingers and crashing to the floor. A tired but smiling face greeted him, looking a little pale perhaps, but with vivid green eyes that held enough color to make up for it.

“Dean!” Castiel exclaimed, eyes wide, staring at the boy he loved. “You’re _here_? How did you… We Skyped yesterday, you were still in your room and… How did you get here _this fast_?”

Dean shrugged, pulling Castiel into his arms instead of answering any questions, reuniting them at last. To Castiel it felt like properly breathing for the first time in ages, because this was it; the feeling of truly coming home. He exhaled with relief as he relaxed in Dean’s embrace, burying his face against Dean’s shoulder, arms locked around Dean’s waist, breathing in the scent that was uniquely _Dean_.

“Glad my little surprise worked out.” Dean smugly whispered into Castiel’s ear, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek, strong hands rubbing Castiel’s back. “Turns out being with you is more important than my fear of flying.”

The next thing to soar high, was Castiel’s heart.


	7. Day 7

“I love you, Dean.”

The words come easily to Castiel, _naturally_ , and he smiles to himself as he curls up against Dean’s side, resting his head against Dean’s shoulder. For an angel who doesn’t require sleep, Castiel sure spends a lot of time in Dean Winchester’s bed. Dean’s hand, previously fumbling with Castiel’s hair, freezes when Castiel speaks.

He hears Dean’s breathing stutter before it picks up its pace, can feel Dean’s heart beating faster against his palm where his hand is resting on Dean’s chest. Castiel knows; Dean will always be afraid to say it out loud. And Cas doesn’t mind, because he knows that Dean not _saying_ it, doesn’t mean that he isn’t  _feeling_ it. Still, he can sense the guilt coming off of Dean in waves whenever those three simple words are being said to him. But Castiel can’t stop himself from saying them at any given chance anyway, because they’re _true._

Lifting his chin a little, the angel sees how soft green eyes are blankly staring up at the ceiling, afraid to look at Castiel.

“It’s alright… We’ve talked about this, you know I understand.” Castiel soothes him, brushing his lips against Dean’s jaw.

Dean lets out a breath, and two arms are suddenly pulling Castiel in, warm and safe. Castiel kisses Dean’s bare shoulder, and Dean gradually relaxes, nuzzling Castiel’s hair.

Castiel doesn’t expect Dean to speak, and Dean doesn’t. He suspects that Dean is about to doze off, when out of the blue, he feels it. An intense wave of longing, taking him by surprise, tugging at his grace, as if desperately begging him to understand something.

Dean is _praying_ , much to Castiel’s confusion. The angel is still recovering from the impact of Dean’s soul calling out to him from that close, when words start tumbling around in his head, until he receives a message, loud and clear.

_‘Cas I… I’m always gonna need you and I… I love you. So much that it scares me.’_

This time, it’s Castiel who can’t speak out loud, a lump in his throat, his eyes prickling. He feels how Dean’s grip on him gets even tighter when he uses their connection to send Dean a silent message in return, carefully whispering the words in Dean’s mind.

_‘I know, Dean… I’ve always known.’_


	8. Day 8

“So… Any new year’s resolutions, Cas? Anything you wanna make sure to do next year?”

Dean grinned at his best friend, fingers toying with his beer bottle. The conversation was easy, light. Sam had disappeared into the kitchen moments ago, getting them another round of beers and some snacks. It was the most basic way to celebrate New Year’s Eve; just the three of them in the bunker, watching some TV and having a drink. In all honesty, Dean wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Blue eyes blinked at Dean from the other end of the couch, full of thought for a moment, but then Cas smiled gently. He looked oddly ruffled without the bulky overcoats; top button of his white shirt undone, tie loose. It made Dean light in the head in a way that he couldn’t possibly blame on the two beers that he’d had.

“As a matter of fact, there’s something…” Castiel mused out loud, putting down his own now empty bottle.

“Oh?” Dean pried, curious as to what was on Cas’ to-do-list. “Wanna share with the class?”

Several heartbeats passed before the angel shifted, angling his body so that he was actually facing Dean, suggesting that he was about to tell something of great significance, a secret perhaps.

“In the year 2016, I want to finally find the courage to kiss the one that I have feelings for.” He stated confidently, as if he hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb.

Dean, who had been in the middle of taking a sip, coughed up his beer at that revelation. There was a sudden hollow feeling in his gut. Cas wanted to kiss someone. Cas had _feelings_ for someone. And Dean didn’t like that idea one bit.

Truth be told, it was Dean’s own fault. His own fault for being a coward and never having the balls to talk to the angel about what the deal was with the two of them. Naturally, Castiel would move on once the right person showed up. Nonetheless, it hurt Dean more than he had anticipated, and by now he didn’t doubt that he looked absolutely crestfallen, but he couldn’t even be bothered to keep his face in check.

He knew that this was his cue to be a good friend and ask who the lucky person was, and support Cas, telling him to go for it. Before Dean could do either of those things, Castiel’s heavy sigh put an end to Dean’s mental debate.

“You are unbelievable, Dean Winchester.” The angel muttered, rolling his eyes, almost as if mocking Dean.

In a blink, Castiel scooted closer to Dean until their knees were an inch from touching. Much slower, he leaned in until they were practically nose to nose. Dean swallowed at their close proximity, but in the back of his mind a very hopeful voice was cheering at this new development. _Shit, did Cas mean…_

The answer was found in Cas’ soft lips against Dean’s, meeting in the middle, Dean tugging on Cas’ tie to pull him as close as possible as they tasted each other for the first time. As their mouths moved in sync, Dean realized that they should’ve done this years ago. Oh well, _better late than never._

They hastily broke apart at the sound of Sam clearing his throat. Dean could feel a blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as they both looked up, shooting Sam matching apologetic glances.

Sam however, just shrugged as he handed them their beers, lips twitching into a smirk.

“You two couldn’t wait until midnight, huh? Figures.”

Dean’s blush was soon replaced by a smug grin, his hand shyly reaching for Cas’ knee. Hell yeah, 2016 was going to be _awesome._

 


	9. Day 9

The first time Dean noticed it, was on a rainy Friday night when he arrived back at the bunker after a rough hunt and a long drive. He had insisted that he could easily handle this one alone, but he couldn’t deny that the task had taken its toll on him. His body was tense, muscles aching. His back, his shoulders, his legs; everything was sore.

Sam had lightly clasped his shoulder and congratulated him on a job well done, and then Castiel had come to greet him. The fallen angel had ever so gently pulled Dean into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to Dean’s lips. A kiss that was followed by many more kisses, every single one of them sweet and chaste.

Once they parted, Dean blinked down at his boyfriend in surprise. A wave of warmth and comfort was buzzing through his veins, no traces of pain left. He knew that he had to be imagining it, because Cas had been human for over three months now. It was probably merely Dean’s excitement at being reunited. Regardless, the idea of Cas’ touch still being enough to heal him, albeit in a different way, made Dean somewhat giddy.

The second time it happened, was when the two of them returned to their gloomy motel room after almost getting killed by a Wendigo. The cut on Dean’s forehead was deep, but not enough to be life threatening. They could take care of that later. As it was, Dean wanted to take a moment to thank whoever was listening that he and Cas were alive and well, _together_. His wound was throbbing, but he forgot all about that when Castiel lowered him onto the small bed, climbing on top of Dean to press sweet little kisses to his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, and eventually his lips. Dean got distracted because they engaged in less innocent activities after that, but when he glanced into the mirror the morning after, he discovered that the cut that should have taken weeks to heal was suddenly gone.

Dean was getting suspicious; this wasn’t a case of just feeling a little sore. He needed to have a talk with Cas, soon.

The third time it happened, Dean was hiding in his bed, overpowered by a nasty flu. Sam had made him chicken soup and gotten him painkillers, but for now, Dean was still feeling like crap.

When the door to his bedroom opened with a click and Cas shuffled inside, Dean irrationally felt some distant kind of hope and relief. Without a word, Castiel sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed, already leaning closer.

“Cas, don’t… You’re human now, you’re gonna get sick too.” Dean warned, voice raw from a cough too many.

Cas being Cas, he ignored Dean, blue eyes determined as he brushed his soft lips against Dean’s. Two brushes, three, and Dean’s throat stopped aching. Four brushes and his headache disappeared. Five brushes and his fever was gone, just like that.

He gasped when Cas pulled back, sitting up, frowning at the former angel.

“What the hell? How do you _do_ that?” Dean demanded, still a tad breathless. “You don’t have your mojo anymore…”

Castiel smiled serenely. “I don’t, but I’ve been an angel for a long time, Dean. It leaves a trace… Remember how Anna could still hear the other angels communicate, even when she was human?”

Dean nodded, her story not yet forgotten.

“I can no longer hear _that_ , but instead, I still can do _this_.”

Jaw dropping, Dean absentmindedly rested his hand on Castiel’s knee. “You can still _heal_ folks? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s a pretty big deal, man.”

Cas shook his head, his mouth shifting into what could very well be a grin. “Apparently there are limits. I can heal, but only like _this_ …” He paused to press another brief kiss to Dean’s lips. “So I suppose that means only for  _you_.”

Dean’s heart may have made a somersault when his brain did the math, recalling every fairytale that he’d ever read when he was little.

“Holy shit. You mean like…” Dean didn’t finish that sentence, realizing how sappy it would sound.

Cas whispered it against his mouth anyway when their lips found each other again not much later.

“Yes… Like _true love’s kiss_ , Dean.”


	10. Day 10

“Cas? When you say you love me, do you mean…”

Dean’s voice trailed off. He was unsure how to ask what he wanted to know, _needed_ to know after the confession that Castiel had made only seconds ago.

After all, Cas had often made it clear that most angels didn’t necessarily feel the same emotions that humans felt. Most of the time, it scared Dean how intense his own feelings for Cas were, but he hoped that it would be a little less terrifying if he had some confirmation that the angel felt the same, if only to some degree.

The two of them were on Dean’s bed, lying there face to face on top of the covers, close but not quite touching. Just talking.

Weary blue eyes peered into Dean’s green ones, investigating, but Cas didn’t speak right away.

“I mean, you’re an angel, I understand if you don’t really…” Dean fell silent again, his second attempt as unsuccessful as the first.

Cas sighed then, looking uncharacteristically tired, but not annoyed.

“Can I touch you, Dean?” He asked after a lengthy silence, one of his hands reaching out and hovering over Dean’s forehead.

“Yeah…” Dean whispered, no hesitation; he would trust Cas with his life if that was what it came down to.

The words were barely out of Dean’s mouth, and the warm palm of Cas’ hand was already pressed against his temple. A faint buzz was all that Dean could feel at first, but it was soon taken over by an unearthly feeling of euphoria. A heartbreaking wave of emotion, reminding Dean of the homemade apple pie that his mom used to bake when she was still alive. Reminding him of driving the Impala for the very first time. Reminding him of his first love, and all of the other crushes that he’d ever had in his life combined. Reminding him of the few happy moments that he’d had with Sammy, Bobby, Charlie, and all of the other people in Dean’s life whom he considered his family.

It was a lot, in fact, it was _too much_. He was overwhelmed by the feeling, the feeling of being in love times a million while simultaneously everything was right in the world.

“Cas…” He whimpered when he couldn’t handle it anymore, the sensation too much for one mortal human being to bear.

Cas let go at once, dropping his hand. Dean was breathing heavily, blinking at the angel who was watching him expectantly.

“Holy crap, what the hell was _that_?” Dean breathed, his voice trembling.

Castiel smiled, reaching for Dean again, this time to simply cup the side of Dean’s face to comfort him.

“ _That_ is what I feel whenever we’re together, or whenever I think about you. All the time.” The angel clarified, the pad of his thumb tracing Dean’s cheek bone. “I figured it would be more effective to show than to tell.”

A frantic make out session followed. Never again did Dean fear that he was in this alone.


	11. Day 11

“Wait, Dean… Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t this game require more players?” Castiel asked, blue eyes skeptically narrowing at Dean as Dean pushed him towards the small closet near the bunker’s only entrance, the one where they kept their coats. “I mean, what is the point if only our two names were it that bowl? Shouldn’t we wait until Sam comes back so that he can join? Or some of your other friends?”

 _Damn._  Dean’s favorite angel was obviously a lot less clueless these days, and Dean should’ve thought this through. Regardless, those three shots of whiskey told him that this was a brilliant idea. Genius, in fact. The perfect way for Dean to finally show Cas what he _truly_ wanted, for the both of them.

“It’ll all make sense in a sec, promise.” Dean assured his friend, flashing Castiel what he hoped was a reassuring smile while gesturing with a wave of his hand that Cas should get in the closet.

The angel complied, albeit with a puzzled frown, and Dean followed, swiftly closing the door behind them.

“It’s very dark in here.” Castiel remarked dryly. “What happens now? You’ve yet to explain me the second part of the game.”

Dean took a deep breath, nerves making his hands tremble where they were balled into fists at his sides. He could only vaguely recognize Cas’ face in the dimly lit space, even though Cas could probably count Dean’s eyelashes without trouble, thanks to his not-quite-human vision.

“Seven Minutes in Heaven…” Dean cleared his throat, leaning a bit closer to Cas, allowing himself some time to think about how to continue that explanation. “It means… It means doing…”

By now, Dean was already planning his escape. Because _shit_ , he still couldn’t do it. He was such an idiot for ever thinking that he could.

Until he felt a steady hand that was cautiously pressed against his cheek. Until he realized that Cas had been gradually leaning closer as well. Until there was that feather light touch of soft lips against his own.

Once the angel pulled away, the tiny closet seemed less gloomy all of the sudden, swimming in a warm blue light, definitely Cas’ doing. In the end, all that mattered was that Castiel was smiling, his hand still cradling Dean’s jaw.

“For your information, Dean… This is not what Heaven is like.” Castiel deadpanned. “But you’ve been there yourself, so you would know.”

Dean affectionately rolled his eyes, because _that_ was the Cas he loved. “Yeah well, what can I say, it’s just a closet… Can’t be as great as actual freaking Heaven.”

Next thing he knew, there was a hand on his hip, pulling him in, Cas’ other hand sliding to the back of his neck to bring him close.

“No…” Cas whispered, his breath caressing Dean’s lips. “Truth be told, this closet is much better.”

When their lips met for a second kiss, this one far more intense, Dean was incredibly grateful that no one would come knocking on that door once their seven minutes in Heaven-on-Earth ended.

As it should be; the best thing about them had always been that they made their _own_ rules.


	12. Day 12

“Wake up, Dean. It’s morning.”

Even though he loved waking up to the sound of that particular voice every morning, Dean groaned loudly to object, too tired to open his eyes just yet; whatever the time was, he was willing to bet that it was way too freaking early. A hand was gently running through his hair, but Dean didn’t move an inch.

“I know that you are awake… And January 24th is my favorite day of the year, so I prefer it to not go to waste.”

Dean sighed, feigning annoyance, but nonetheless opened his eyes at Cas’ obvious enthusiasm. As soon as he did, Castiel crawled on top of him, casually straddling his hips, blue eyes full of adoration and excitement. He was wearing one of Dean’s old shirts, the collar a tad too wide, exposing the long elegant lines of his neck, his hair an artful mess.

“What the hell, man?” Dean grumbled, his hands automatically settling on Cas’ hips anyway as he tried to make sense of the date.

 _Oh right, Dean’s birthday._ Cas had been going on about it all week long.

Dean made sure to let out another exasperated grunt at the knowledge.

“I never even celebrate my birthday, Cas.” He muttered, rolling his eyes at the angel on top of him. “I’m not sure why _you_ are making such a big deal out of it anyway, it’s just a date.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, looking nothing short of offended as he placed both his hands on Dean’s chest to balance himself.

“Well, you _do_ celebrate now, Sam and I already bought presents.” Cas stated, jaw set, leaving no room for an argument. “We’re going to celebrate the fact that you were born, whether you like it or not, because I’m utterly thankful that you exist.”

Cas was looking at him with such intensity, Dean felt his throat tighten, his heart beating fast. 

He wouldn’t dare to go against the guy he loved. The person who, as it happened, was also the one who’d taught Dean that it could be enjoyable to wake up in the morning. That good things _did_ happen. That those were things worth living for, and that there was plenty of stuff that he would’ve missed out on otherwise. Maybe Cas did have a point…

Defeated, Dean cracked a small grin, taking Cas’ hands in his, their fingers lacing together where they were resting against Dean’s chest. It was enough for Castiel’s expression to grow softer, and not much later he lowered himself into Dean’s arms, hiding his face against Dean’s shoulder as Dean held him.

“You know what, you’re right…” Dean confessed after a while. “I’m kinda thankful that I exist, too.”

“Good.” Castiel answered after brushing a fleeting kiss to Dean’s throat, definitely sounding a little smug. _“Happy birthday,_ Dean.”


	13. Day 13

Castiel receives a text from Dean around midnight. He’s back at the bunker, doing research while Dean and Sam are out, working on a case that looks an awful lot like a vengeful spirit.

_‘Heya Cas, I **love** you, if you’re still awake could you look up a few things for me?’_

The former angel almost drops his phone, his heart doing a tiny jump. Love. Dean said _love._

His fingers tremble as he tries to type a reply, nervous, because it appears that his best friend is finally willing to talk about whatever it is that is going on between the two of them.

Before he can finish and send his reply, his phone buzzes again. Another message from Dean.

_‘Son of a bitch! What the hell is this?! Sorry about that, Cas… Looks like I **love** to kick my brother’s ass.’_

This is something Castiel knows; the option to automatically correct certain words and change them to other words while texting. A classic Winchester prank between brothers, it would seem.

He feels oddly disappointed, hurt even, and doesn’t bother to reply. Instead he goes to sleep; the brothers will surely manage to solve the case without him, like they often do. Sleep is something he’s learning to appreciate ever since he’s lost his grace. The most effective way to escape reality, if only for a little while.

When he wakes up, hours later, he notices a new message from Dean. He expects an angry rant, Dean complaining about Castiel sleeping on the job. He gets none of that.

_‘Yeah, so you probably figured it out, but Sammy thought it was hilarious to change ‘need’ to ‘love’ in my phone.’_

Immediately, Castiel spots a second message.

_‘By the way, I changed it back… I can type ‘need’ again.’_

Castiel rolls his eyes; Dean’s first message made that perfectly clear.

But then he sees the third message that Dean left him right after those first two.

_‘I’ll text you a pic of the crime scene, need you to look into these Enochian sigils for me… PS: I guess Sam wasn’t wrong. I love you.’_

Cheeks flushed and heart racing, Castiel fully plans on doing the research and type a long text with all of the required info soon. However for now, he sticks to a language much simpler when he texts Dean back. 

_‘ <3′_


	14. Day 14

“Jesus, Cas… Don’t you ever get tired of that?” Dean grumbled halfheartedly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and wrinkling his nose.

He’d woken up to the sight of Cas serenely staring down at him, a subtle smile tugging at the left corner of his mouth. The angel was sitting on what nowadays was _his side_ of Dean’s bed, back resting against the headboard, his laptop forgotten on the nightstand.

They’d discussed this a while ago, of course. Seeing as angels didn’t need sleep, once they’d finally confessed their feelings for each other, Castiel had insisted that it was for Dean to decide what he wanted. Whether he wanted Cas to stay with him during the nights, or wanted him to go about his business in case it made him uncomfortable that only one of them was sleeping.

Dean had eagerly picked the first option, sue him, but sometimes it still baffled him how the angel seemed to be eternally fascinated with his everyday human activities.

“I won’t get bored, you’re quite entertaining when you sleep.” Cas supplied, reaching out to briefly brush the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows and scowled at the angel. “You’re not spying on my dreams, are you?” He accused.

Cas solemnly shook his head. “I promised I wouldn’t read your mind without your permission, that includes dreams.”

“Good.” Dean muttered, scooting closer to Castiel and wiggling his way into Cas’ arms. “Still curious though, what’s so entertaining about it then, huh?”

“Knowing you, you won’t like the answer.” Cas mused, only feeding Dean’s curiosity.

“Try me, Cas.”

“Alright…” Castiel hesitated, wrapping his arms around Dean and resting his chin on the top of Dean’s head. “I like to count the beats of your heart, to hear the steady rhythm that proves that you’re healthy and alive. I enjoy hearing you breathe, deep and even, it’s a rather calming experience. I love to watch you dream, the way your eyelids flutter, the way you smile when it’s a pleasant dream and…”

A longer pause.

“And?” Dean prompted eventually, shifting in Cas’ embrace to look the angel in the eye.

Castiel smiled fondly, as if reliving a happy memory. “My very favorite thing is when you say _my name.”_

Dean’s cheeks started to burn thanks to the blood mercilessly rushing to them. Crap, that was so embarrassing.

“Does that, ehm… Does that happen a lot?” He mumbled after awkwardly clearing his throat.

When Castiel answered him, there were no traces of him mocking Dean, blue eyes showing nothing but adoration and undying love. He looked proud, even.

“ _Every_ night, Dean.”

Dean’s shame vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He smirked as he crawled on top of Cas, straddling him, claiming their first kiss of the day. It was slow and sweet, Cas’ taste lingering on Dean’s lips where apparently Cas’ name had been earlier that night.

Being in love was good. Dean prayed it would never fade.  


	15. Day 15

“Achoo!”

A violent sneeze startled Dean awake. Something had been tickling his nose, taunting him. When he opened his eyes, a tad bewildered, he noticed that he still couldn’t see much of anything. Soon enough, it occurred to him exactly what it was, blocking him from the outside world; a blanket of smooth, black feathers.

 _Son of a bitch_. What better way to wake up than with a face and mouth full of feathers? _Peachy._

“Cas… Feathers.” Dean sputtered a complaint to his angel.

A heartbeat later, and the curtain of feathers was lifted. Dean blearily glanced up at the angel sitting on the bed beside him, Cas stretching both his arms and wings lazily, letting out a yawn. Angels didn’t necessarily need to sleep; that didn’t mean that they _couldn’t_.

“Oh… I apologize, Dean.” Castiel gazed down at Dean from under thick lashes, blue eyes tracking Dean’s every move as Dean brushed some stray feathers out of his hair.

Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Guess we both still have to get used to me being able to see and feel them now, huh?”

Immediately, Cas’ wings slumped, going limp in what looked like defeat. And damn, if that wasn’t the cutest thing ever. Dean loved how those pretty wings gave him a tiny glimpse inside of Cas’ head.

“You don’t like them, they make you uncomfortable.” Castiel concluded, wrongfully so. “You can tell me… I wanted us to share this now that we’re together, but if you want me to start hiding them again, I can.”

Sighing at how ridiculously oblivious his angel could be at times, Dean pushed the covers away, kneeling on the bed beside Cas. Now that their faces were on the same level, Dean placed his hands on Cas’ cheeks, his thumbs earnestly caressing Castiel’s cheekbones.

“Actually, I kinda _love_ them, Cas.” Dean admitted honestly, planting a kiss on Cas’ nose. “They’re awesome, like you.”

The confession had barely left Dean’s mouth, and already Castiel’s cheeks were changing color, glowing under Dean’s palms. And then Cas’ wings proudly puffed out, feathers trembling with excitement at Dean’s praise.

Dean laughed softly, pressing a second kiss to Cas’ lips, at which the feathers rustled happily. Cas smiled timidly, and Dean released his face so that he could ruffle his hair instead.

“Well, will you look at that?” Dean teased the angel. “Looks like they love me back _._ ”

When dark wings wrapped themselves around Dean to keep him in a tight embrace, he knew that his theory was correct. This time, he didn’t feel any need to complain when soft feathers sweetly tickled his face. Quite the opposite; he spent the rest of the morning exploring each and every inch of the silky black that he was already learning to love. 

Unsurprisingly, Castiel didn’t complain either.


	16. Day 16

Angels didn’t sulk, Castiel was sure of it. Or at least, he _had been_ sure of it, until this morning. Until he found himself dejectedly sipping his coffee in the bunker’s kitchen, using Sam’s laptop to look for an interesting case to distract him from this ridiculous… Well, _sulking._

February 14th. It shouldn’t make a difference, of course. It was a silly human tradition, Castiel shouldn’t even care about it in the first place. Even though Sam had encouraged him during their talk yesterday. Had almost convinced Castiel to go for it and do something for Dean, something to finally show Dean how he felt.

But Castiel had chickened out, and decided that he wouldn’t -couldn’t- do it. Surely Sam had it all wrong; Dean didn’t see Castiel that way, there was no chance, and he’d merely make a fool of himself. Not to mention, things would get tense and uncomfortable around the bunker.

With a heavy sigh, Castiel closed the laptop, not even lucky in finding a case to take his mind off of whatever wild random Valentine’s day dates that Dean without a doubt had planned for today.

He put down his empty mug, already planning to go for a drive to clear his head, when someone suddenly coughed pointedly. Castiel turned his head at the sound, tilting it and meeting green eyes and a flustered face.

“Dean? Is something wrong?” He asked, slowly getting up from his seat.

“No.” Dean replied right away, making a sound that could either be a huff or a laugh. “Just wanna say… The card is giving me cavities from just looking at it, but yeah, _me too_.”

Castiel frowned at his favorite human, puzzled, at which Dean rolled his eyes and dangled something in front of him, clearly a Valentine’s themed card. On it were flowers, bees, and the rather cheesy line ‘ _I want to BEE yours_ ’.

Written in one of the corners was Castiel’s name, the hand writing much like Castiel’s, but not quite identical. There was no way that Dean could’ve known that though.

“Dean, I…” Castiel started, about to betray his main and only suspect; Sam Winchester.

But Sam was saved when Dean cut Castiel off with a swift kiss, gentle but sure, right on the lips. Castiel blinked in wonder when Dean pulled back, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look man, I get it, I know we need to talk about this…” Dean muttered, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. “But I just… I’ve waited a long time, hell, so have you. Would it kill us to have some fun today and leave the serious crap for tomorrow?”

Castiel answered him with a kiss of his own, a feeling of pure bliss knocking the breath out of both of them. They _could_ talk later, the angel decided as their kiss deepened, Dean’s hands finding their way into Castiel’s hair. For now, this was enough. Castiel made a mental note to thank Sam tomorrow.

~                                                         

Sneakily peeking through the kitchen door, Sam Winchester breathed a relieved “ _finally_ ”.

So he’d cheated a little to at last escape that never ending tension between his older brother and their guardian angel; could anyone really blame him after seven years? He shrugged, giving himself a well-deserved pat on the shoulder, whistling a tune as he headed to his room to get ready for his lunch date with Eileen.


	17. Day 17

Dean had stopped questioning his fascination with Castiel’s hands a long time ago. Every now and then he found himself staring at them; it was just something that happened, at least once a day. Like right now, for example.

The fallen angel was sitting across from him, their current location a booth at the noisy diner where they were waiting for Sam to meet them. There was a tiny furrow between Cas’ eyebrows as he stared out of the window at the setting sun, rather than at Dean. While Cas appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, long elegant fingers were clutching at a large mug of coffee, their skin pale, fingernails a light purple.

Dean knew this; Cas’ hands were undoubtedly freezing. Cas had adjusted so well to everything human, but the cold was something he still had trouble getting used to.

With a quiet sigh, Dean reached for Cas across the table, offering Cas both of his hands, palms up. Conveniently, Dean’s hands were toasty warm most of the time, in Dean’s opinion one of the few good things that came out of suffering through a lot of cold and discomfort during his career as a hunter. Here in this crowded room though, Dean knew he could appreciate the cool touch of Cas’ skin, somehow always calming to him.

The gesture coaxed Cas out of his musings, and he glanced down at the familiar offer, then smiled timidly.

“Are you sure, Dean? _Here?_ ” Castiel verified, nodding at the many customers and waitresses surrounding them.

Dean shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, acting like it was no big deal. “Yeah… This is kinda my job, right? Not letting a mug of crappy diner coffee replace me now.”

Castiel was practically glowing, which meant that it was all worth it. Not much later, Castiel’s icy hands were in Dean’s warmer ones, fingers locked on top of the table, Dean’s thumbs rubbing Cas’ knuckles to warm them up. For the very first time, they were holding hands in public. It felt strangely intimate, maybe even more so than the many kisses that they’d shared since Cas had lost his grace.

They exchanged another smile, Cas reveling in the warmth that Dean supplied, Dean welcoming the soothing cold that Castiel gave in return. Grateful blue eyes blinked at Dean with what could only be admiration.

And Dean was proud of them, not ashamed in the slightest. He didn’t care at all if people saw them like this. On the contrary; everyone was allowed to see how well they were fitting together.

Fire and ice, meeting in the middle. The perfect balance, ever since the day they’d first met.


	18. Day 18

Castiel all but stares a hole into the bunker’s wall, unmoving, unblinking. He’s curled up on the bed that is supposedly his now, resting on his side, hands loosely holding on to his pillow, hiding in the room that is supposedly his as well from now on.

He’s unable to sleep, and he doesn’t know how to feel about anything. About everything he’s done. About saying yes to Lucifer. About going on that suicide mission. But also about being  _here_.

 _“This is home, Cas”_ Dean had declared after it was all over.

But somehow it doesn’t feel that way, and Castiel can’t quite figure out why. Even though the battle is won, all Castiel manages to feel is a faint emptiness that’s making his chest ache.

They hadn’t talked much since when it had all ended last night, Dean and him. Probably because Castiel doesn’t know what to say, and he assumes that as per usual, Dean doesn’t know either. Not unless they are an inch from death. Then again, Castiel doesn’t know what he even _wants_ Dean to say or do. Doesn’t know what he wants _himself_ to say or do. Doesn’t know what it is he needs to hear, or to say, in order to feel like himself again.

A knock on the door makes Castiel shudder; come to think of it, the room is a bit cold. He doesn’t answer, but the door opens with a soft click regardless.

Castiel’s body trembles again when he sees from the corner of his eye that it’s Dean, who doesn’t say anything, instead sits down on the edge of the bed beside Castiel. Castiel continues his staring contest with the wall, because he doesn’t understand his own needs anyway, nor does he understand Dean’s.

But then Dean surprises him in the simplest of ways. A large hand comes to rest on Castiel’s shoulder, squeezes him gently through the thin fabric of the shirt that he’d borrowed from Dean, before lingering there.

“You are not alone, Cas.”

That’s all. That’s all Dean says, and somehow, it’s everything that Castiel needed to hear. Tears make his eyes prickle, but he doesn’t bother to break his head over how Dean knew exactly what to say this time. On the contrary; he embraces the touch, placing his hand over Dean’s and allowing their fingers to tangle.

Dean stays with him like that until he falls asleep, which is only minutes later.

As he closes his tired eyes, Castiel finally grasps what it is he _truly_ needs.


	19. Day 19

Smiling to himself as he flips through the pages of an old book that Sam had ordered him to check out for research, Dean senses the precise moment when a certain angel appears behind him in the smelly motel room, silently reading along over his shoulder for a bit.

He can feel his own grin grow wider at the mischief that’s already on his mind. One swift movement, and Dean turns around, gets up from his seat, then takes Cas by surprise by kissing him right on the lips.

Blue eyes go wide, and a beat later there is the quiet sound or rustling, of _wings._ Castiel’s face is flustered when Dean pulls back. He looks more than a little disgruntled, but the black wings that have spontaneously materialized are trembling with obvious excitement. The feathers are as ruffled as Castiel’s hair, and Dean gives himself a moment to admire the view. _Success_.

“Dean!” Cas admonishes, eyes narrowing to slits. “You _know_ this happens when you don’t warn me first, I need a fair chance to have the control to keep them hidden before you kiss me.”

What follows is a grumbling noise that sounds a lot like “I hate this”, but then Castiel closes his eyes to concentrate, and the wings are no longer there for Dean to see.

Dean knows why Cas feels self-conscious about them; the way his wings react makes him an open book to Dean. Which happens to be exactly why Dean _does_ like them, and why he’d been thrilled to find out that he could do this, that first time when he’d kissed the angel.

“Right… I’m sorry?” Dean says as he places his hands on Cas’ hips, not even sounding believable to himself.

Cas rolls those giant blue eyes to call Dean’s bullshit, for sure already realizing that Dean did it on purpose. As a matter of fact, Dean can tell that he’s trying to hold back an actual pout. It’s too endearing, and Dean knows that he has no other choice but to _kiss_ it away. He dips his head without warning, only to bring their lips together again. This time, the rustling of feathers comes with a loud curse against Dean’s lips.

While Dean distracts his grumpy angel with more kisses, Cas’ wings, now fluttering happily, betray how Castiel _truly_ feels about all this.

Dean chuckles against Cas’ mouth as he feels how both Castiel’s arms and wings surrender, surrounding him in a tender embrace. Oh, the perks of dating an angel.


	20. Day 20

Dean knows what he wants; he usually does. The problem is, he doesn’t know how to ask for it without it sounding ridiculous and, quite frankly, a little needy. He ever so subtly gazes at Cas, who is sitting right beside him. Close, but their shoulders aren’t quite touching.

They’re on Dean’s bed, watching a movie on the small TV that Dean had purchased a while ago. Cas never takes his eyes away from the screen, and Dean is sure that he spots the hint of a smile around Cas’ lips, his face relaxed, tie discarded, first button of his dress shirt undone. Good. Dean enjoys seeing his angel happy and at ease.

With a frustrated sigh, Dean deliberates, after a long minute deciding that maybe he can ask for this without really _saying_ it. He scoots closer to Castiel, nudging Cas’ arm with his own.

Gentle blue eyes shift from the screen to Dean, and Cas looks confused for a moment.

Dean tries to keep in an impatient groan. He’s going to have to say something after all, doesn’t he? Cas still glances at him expectantly.

“I ehm… We could… I mean, can we?” Dean nods and raises his eyebrows at Cas, as if that is the perfect conclusion to an already shitty explanation.

Lucky for Dean, as it’s meant to be, Cas gets him, judging by the lopsided grin that he flashes Dean.

“Ah, I see. You wish to _cuddle_.” Cas states without beating around the bush, immediately lifting his arm to invite Dean in.

Dean chokes on air at Cas’ choice of words. _Freaking angels_.

“It’s not _cuddling._ ” He huffs, protesting even as he wiggles his way into Cas’ arms, resting his head against Castiel’s shoulder where it feels like it belongs.

He thinks he’s imagining Castiel’s silent chuckle, until Cas holds him tighter and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“ _Of course_ it isn’t.” He murmurs against Dean’s temple, his tone amused; Cas has a flawless Dean-Winchester-bullshit detector. “Whatever you say, Dean.”


	21. Day 21

_It’s not a date._ Dean tells himself this as he picks one of the more private booths at the diner for him and Cas. Just two dudes escaping the bunker for a bit, getting some fresh air and having a nice meal. For God knows what reason, Sam had insisted that this was something that Dean and Cas should do ‘together’.

 _But it’s not a date._ Dean assures himself once more as he feels how Cas shifts his feet under the table, pressing his right foot against Dean’s left one, and leaving it there while they eat their burgers.

When Dean orders a slice of pecan pie for dessert and the fallen angel asks if he can have a taste, Dean’s first instinct is to say no. Dean Winchester doesn’t do sharing, not when it comes to food. But then there is Cas, gazing at him from across the table with those otherworldly blue eyes… They end up sharing the pie. _It’s definitely not a date._

They walk back to the car, shoulders touching, hands brushing with every step they take. It’s Cas who takes Dean by surprise when he suddenly grabs Dean’s hand.

“It’s not a date!” Dean blurts out, cheeks flushed.

Cas’ face briefly falls, but his frown fades soon enough when Dean squeezes his hand and doesn’t let go until they reach the car.

Dean doesn’t know what possesses him to do it -although in the back of his mind maybe he does-, but he gently presses Cas against the side of the Impala, kissing him slowly yet determinedly.

“Not a date, huh?” Cas questions smugly as they separate, still sounding a little breathless from their first kiss.

“Oh, shut up, Cas.” Dean huffs defensively, rolling his eyes before he goes in for a second kiss.

Who knew that _not-dates_ could end this well?


	22. Day 22

Whenever Castiel kisses Dean, he makes sure to pay attention to every inch of Dean’s face.

Dean’s nose, Dean’s cheeks, Dean’s chin, and Dean’s forehead. Even Dean’s jaw. He doesn’t stop until he’s done counting every single freckle that’s painted in gold and brown.

“I know what you’re doing, you big sap.” Dean, as always, utters a halfhearted protest at some point. “We both know that this freckles and angel kisses stuff is a load of bullshit. And just saying… I don’t have freckles _there_.”

Castiel can’t help but smile as he nuzzles the sensitive spot behind Dean’s ear, where the skin is indeed pale and flawless. That is until Castiel brushes his lips against it, the blood rushing to Dean’s neck and tingling pleasantly. Naturally, Dean knows that feeling; angel grace.

“You do _now_ , Dean.”

Dean groans but surrenders.  _Damn._ That sneaky cheater.


	23. Day 23

Both the morning sun and a soft summer breeze crept in through the open window of the motel room, playing with faded orange curtains and waking Dean up.

Eyes still closed, Dean smiled when he felt another warm body pressed against his back. His smile grew even wider when soft lips brushed kisses against his neck and shoulder blades; Dean loved being the little spoon.

When he opened his eyes at last after reveling in the feeling for a while, the first thing Dean did was glance over his shoulder. Kind blue eyes stared back at him, calm and patient, a gentle smile welcoming him.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean grinned, greeting his angel with a sleepy “Morning, Cas”.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist to hold him closer, Dean’s back to Castiel’s chest, but Dean’s face fell a little when his gaze rested on his own left shoulder, the one where Cas had been leaving kisses seconds ago.

Because yeah, at first he’d been thankful when Castiel’s handprint had finally disappeared. But now that they were together, years later, he often caught himself wishing that it was still there. That subtle piece of proof of their special bond. The mark that had suggested that Dean belonged to Castiel, and Castiel alone.

“Don’t feel bad about it…” Castiel suddenly whispered into Dean’s ear, not missing a beat. “It’s still there, even if you can’t see it.”

Dean didn’t know where to start; scolding Cas for reading his mind again, or asking him what the hell he even meant by that.

“The mark on your skin was a mere reflection, Dean.” Cas supplied before Dean could even think that through. “The real mark is on your _soul_ , and I can promise you that it will _never_ fade.”

That revelation was exciting rather than upsetting, and Dean turned in Castiel’s arms until they were nose to nose, full of wonder.

“So you’re saying you claimed me as yours by touching my soul?” Dean checked, lifting an eyebrow at his best friend turned lover. “You do realize that it sounds cheesy, huh?”

“Do you mind?” Castiel asked, his hand searching for Dean’s left shoulder, touching it where it was resting on the thin pillow, long fingers caressing Dean’s skin where they could reach it.

Outside, birds started singing, the still rising sun now covering the two of them in rays of gold and yellow.

“No…” Dean mumbled truthfully, placing his own hand over Castiel’s, keeping it there as he slowly moved closer to demand a good morning kiss. “ _All yours,_ Cas.”


	24. Day 24

“Cas?” Dean called softly, resting a hand on the angel’s shoulder to get his attention. “Turns out that this vamp nest was bigger than we thought, Sammy just texted me, he’s gonna need our help to take them out.”

Cas blinked up from the book that he’d been studying, offering Dean a smile full of understanding, nodding as he got up from his chair. Dean liked that particular smile, a lot. That smile that said _‘don’t worry, I will always have your back’_ , but without words.

“I’ll go get the car. Four hour drive ahead.” Dean muttered, pecking Cas on the cheek, one of Dean’s favorite things to do ever since they’d gotten together; simple yet sweet.

Before he could turn around and rush out of the bunker’s library, Cas lightly grabbed his wrist to stop him, taking Dean by surprise. Naturally, Dean knew that he was very much in trouble when he recognized the look that Cas was giving him; Cas had a plan that differed from Dean’s.

“Your brother needs help with this simple case, and we can be there in three seconds or less if I _fly_ us there.” Castiel pointed out matter-of-factly, blue eyes insistent. “It would save us eight hours.”

“No! Hell no!” Dean huffed, glaring at his boyfriend. “You know how I feel about the whole teleporting thing! Might be fast, but it makes me feel like I wanna throw up.”

Castiel sighed, and shit, now he was giving Dean that look that would put the average kicked puppy to shame. “I’ll admit that I could’ve been more gentle about it in the past, Dean… But it’s very efficient.”

Dean stood his ground. “Nuh-uh, not falling for that. I’m not doing it, Cas.”

When Cas frowned and glanced up at Dean from under dark lashes, Dean should’ve known that something was up. Unfortunately, Dean was too lost in blue eyes and sharp cheekbones to see it coming.

One of Cas’ hands cupped Dean’s cheek, and less than a second later, Castiel’s lips found Dean’s.

The rational part of Dean told him that they were in the middle of an argument, and that Cas was cheating with that whole distraction tactic of his. Nevertheless, aforementioned distraction worked, and Dean sighed happily as the kiss deepened, enjoying the way in which their lips moved together perfectly. Dean’s eyes slipped closed when Cas’ hands found their way into Dean’s hair, clever fingers caressing Dean’s scalp and the back of his neck.

 _‘Hell yeah, angel kisses! Argument? What argument?’_ Dean’s traitorous brain oh so helpfully contributed as the sensations took over.

Dean was somewhat out of breath when Cas pulled away. He opened his eyes, stunned when it was sunlight that greeted him. Nope, definitely not the bunker’s library. Gasping and stumbling in Cas’ embrace, Dean realized where he was; he recognized the motel to his left from the picture that Sam had texted him earlier. Cas had taken him there, and Dean hadn’t felt as much as a tingle.

To show his fake displeasure, Dean groaned as he playfully glowered at the angel that was still holding him, blue eyes displaying false innocence as strong arms kept Dean close.

“You _son of a bitch!”_


	25. Day 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this text post: ‘Just imagine Castiel shrinking his halo to put it on Dean’s finger as a wedding ring.’

“What?! Cas, no! We said no expensive crap like rings and stuff! Keeping it simple, remember?”

Dean put on his grumpy act when Castiel woke him up with breakfast in bed, then hesitantly showed him the only ring that he desperately wanted to see on Dean’s finger for the rest of their existence.

Three days it had been since Castiel had spontaneously proposed on a Sunday morning. Three days since Dean had blurted out a baffled ‘yes’, although making it crystal clear that he didn’t want any unnecessary or fancy stuff. Such as spending a fortune on matching engagement rings, for starters. Castiel could respect that, but this had nothing to do with money, not in the slightest.

“Why not, Dean? You gave me one of the rings that you inherited from your family.” Castiel reminded him, waving the ring that he was wearing in front of Dean’s face, hoping to win him over.

Dean rolled his eyes, even as he appreciatively chewed the blueberry waffles that Castiel had made him. Well, he’d made them with a little help from Sam, otherwise he most likely would’ve ended up burning down the bunker’s kitchen; Castiel wasn’t too proud to admit that his cooking skills had yet to improve.

“That’s different.” Dean protested after swallowing another bite. “That’s _symbolic_ , didn’t cost me a dime.”

“This didn’t either.” Castiel replied truthfully, holding up the shiny band made of gold, the small object glowing in the palm of his hand.

“Sure it didn’t. Will you _look_ at that thing? It shines brighter than any piece of jewelry that I’ve seen in my life, almost looks like it has some kind of special effects, no way that it was cheap.” Dean countered, raising an eyebrow at Castiel who was still kneeling beside him on their bed.

“I didn’t _buy_ it, Dean. It’s just a little something that I preserved from… from my days as an angel. Before I fell, I remade it into a smaller form and kept it, in case you and I would ever…” Castiel trailed off, tone quiet, directing a pleading look at the man he loved, begging him to understand without having to spell it out. “Seeing as I’m human now, I can no longer wear it the way I was meant to. Instead, I’d like _you_ to wear it and keep it safe, _symbolically_.”

It was fairly easy to pinpoint the exact second when something clicked in Dean’s brain. Dean’s jaw dropped, his fork clattering on his plate after it slipped from his fingers.

“Holy shit…” He whispered, green eyes focusing on the flickering ring of gold in Castiel’s palm.

Castiel huffed nervously at Dean’s reaction. “It _is_ holy, I will give you that much.”

Dean’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious all of the sudden, the look in his eyes growing impossibly soft. He leaned closer to briefly touch his lips to Castiel’s forehead, a tiny gesture of affection that made Castiel shiver in the best of ways.

“Yeah…” Dean murmured when he pulled back, offering Castiel his left hand, their eyes locking. “Yeah, Cas… _I’ll keep it safe_.”


	26. Day 26

Dean lies there, wide awake, rigid and tense. Frightened. He’s afraid to blink or move, almost reluctant to simply breathe in and out. Probably wouldn’t breathe if oxygen wasn’t a necessity, just to make sure that nothing _changes._

In his arms, Castiel is sleeping, snoring softly, from the looks of it feeling at home in Dean’s bed. Has been sleeping for three hours now, completely exhausted; being possessed by the devil for weeks and weeks would do that to a person, Dean figures. They’re touching everywhere, Castiel’s back firmly pressed against Dean’s chest, legs tangled together, Dean’s arms holding Cas so tight that it’s probably only an inch from painful.

Yet Dean is still terrified. For hours all he’s been doing is stare at the sleeping angel, replaying memories in his mind, remembering the many ways that he’d lost Cas. Or almost lost him. There have been too many times, and Dean has already lost count. It’s too late to change the past anyway, but Dean’s going to make damn sure that this was the last time that they’d been separated like that.

Cas stirs, and Dean’s heart stutters. Despite Dean’s promise to himself, he knows that he can’t keep the angel here forever, not if Castiel doesn’t want it _too_.

Holding his breath, Dean watches as sleepy blue eyes blink open, Castiel stretching his neck to meet Dean’s gaze. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, and Dean knows this. Cas is reading him, probably. Whether he’s reading Dean’s face, his mind, or his very soul, Dean has no clue. And he doesn’t care either way, because he’s just grateful whenever he doesn’t have to talk about his feelings out loud.

A soft sigh from Cas, and the angel shakes his head. “Go to sleep, Dean. I’m not going anywhere, I swear it.”

Castiel rests his head on the pillow again, but at the same time takes one of Dean’s hands in his own, their fingers intertwining.

“You’re not going anywhere… Not- not ever?” Dean’s voice breaks, and he knows he sounds pathetic, but he’s too anxious to care.

Eyelids already drooping again, lashes fluttering, Castiel’s hand squeezes Dean’s before he mumbles his answer. “As long as you want me here… Not ever.”

Dean breathes. He kisses the top of Castiel’s head and lingers there, vowing to himself that he won’t let the angel out of his sight again. _Not ever._


	27. Day 27

_Thump._

Castiel jumps in his seat when a thick envelope lands right on top of the article in the morning paper that he’d been reading a moment ago, and he nearly knocks over his mug of tea in the process.

He glances up, where Dean is towering over him, an amused smirk on his face, green eyes curious.

“This came in the mail for you, _Castiel Winchester._ ” He teases, quirking an eyebrow.

Castiel feels his face turn the same shade of red as the average traffic light when he remembers; it’s the library card that the local library promised to send him. He’d been quick to give them the address of the bunker, knowing it by heart. However when they’d asked him for his last name, he’d drawn a blank, then blurted out the first name that came to mind.

Only now does he realize how this sounds, and he bites his bottom lip as he sheepishly stares back at Dean. It’s one thing to be dating Dean, but sharing a last name is something a lot more serious to most humans. It may have been an accident, but scaring Dean away now that they’re finally together is not how Castiel wants this to end.

“I- I am very sorry, Dean. I apologize, I wasn’t thinking, I have an explanation I swear, it’s- _Hmmp_ …”

He’s forced to quit rambling when Dean leans closer, dips his head, and kisses Castiel right on the lips. Dean’s mouth moves with purpose, the kiss slightly urgent, and all Castiel can do is wrap his arms around Dean’s neck and hold on.

When they part, Dean laughs as his eyes flicker to the envelope again, sounding positively giddy.

“Castiel Winchester, huh… Never occurred to me that you’re gonna need a last name now that you’re with the humans, but this sounds perfect.” He declares with a glint in his eyes, pressing one last fleeting kiss to Castiel’s temple. “We’re making that official. _Soon_.”

Slack jawed, Castiel stares after Dean who makes his way to the coffee machine, a skip in his step, whistling a tune. Apparently Dean _wants_ Castiel to have his name, gets excited about it even. Once that sinks in, Castiel timidly smiles to himself. His grin slowly grows wider when he opens his mail and notices that the library card, predictably, says _‘Castiel Winchester_ ’.

Luckiest. Accident. Ever.


	28. Day 28

Castiel knows this. He’s familiar with it, has felt it before. Dean’s warmth, Dean’s scent, Dean’s embrace.

Although none of their previous hugs were quite like this, that much Castiel has to admit. This is the first time that they’re _both_ holding on to the other like there’s no tomorrow. And come to think of it, maybe there isn’t, but as Dean’s fingers are all but forming bruises on Castiel’s lower back from holding on too tight, Castiel doesn’t care. Doesn’t care what happens next, only cares about the here and now.

Because he’s thought about this before. About home. About what home means to him. Whether home is where he used to belong -up there in Heaven-, or down here on earth in an old bunker that used to be the home of the men of letters.

But this simple gesture of affection helps him to find the answer at last. Home isn’t a realm, or a building. Home is here, where Castiel’s heart belongs. Here where Dean holds him close, and takes all the time in the world to do so, just this once.

Even though he isn’t an expert, Castiel is aware that the average hug doesn’t last this long. Knows that it’s a big deal when Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair. Knows that it’s special when Dean isn’t the first one to pull away, even though they’ve been standing here like this for nearly five minutes.

“Dean?” Castiel whispers after a while, his chin still resting on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s breath hot against his ear. “Are you planning to let go anytime soon?”

Dean’s arms tighten around Castiel in response. More minutes pass, and then Dean finally answers the question for real, murmuring a single word against Castiel’s neck, still not letting go.

_“No.”_


	29. Day 29

“That hand looks very heavy, do you want me to hold it for you?”

Dean almost chokes on a cough when Cas delivers the line in a tone that is two hundred percent dead serious, tilting his head and nodding at Dean’s left hand, blue eyes hopeful. They’re at the grocery store, and Cas’ remark has resulted in Dean nearly dropping the six pack of beer that he’d been about to put in their shopping cart.

“Dude, really?” Dean huffs a snort once he’s recovered. “Where did you even get that? Did Claire give you one of her magazines again?”

Cas’ blush is enough of an answer, and Dean rolls his eyes at the angel.

“Not to kill the mood here, Cas… But there’s no need to use pick up lines on someone when you’re already _with_ them.” Dean dryly informs him.

A half shrug from Castiel.

“I’d still like to hold your hand right now, Dean.”

 _Of course he does._ Because yeah, leave it to Dean-freaking-Winchester to fall in love with the biggest sap in the universe.

Dean sighs theatrically, but he knows that he’s fooling no one with his half-assed attempt at pretending to be annoyed.

“Dork.” He grumbles, but Cas merely smiles at him, not offended in the least.

Dean slips his hand into Cas’ without saying another word, not letting go until they get to the checkout. He’ll never admit it out loud, but it feels kinda amazing. 

From now on, he’ll make sure to complain to Cas about heavy hands. _A lot._


	30. Day 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last day! Thank you all so much for reading/commenting/leaving kudos! <3 I might do another series like this by the end of summer, hope to see you again then! :)

_“Hello, Dean.”_

Dean smiles to himself when Cas picks up the phone after the first ring.

“Heya, Cas… You alright?” He decides to start the conversation with the only question that truly matters.

Usually, they don’t go on separate hunts anymore, but this time it had seemed like the more efficient option.

_“I’m fine. Are you and Sam alright?”_

“Yeah, we’re good. The ghost is toast, we’ll be heading back to the bunker after breakfast.” Dean answers, grinning at the promise of home as he watches how Sam dumps their duffle bags in the trunk. “What about you? How did it go with the witch? Where are you?”

 _“She’s gone, she was no competition.”_ Castiel replies rather smugly, and god does Dean love that tone. _“It took me less than two hours, I’m already home.”_

At the last part, Dean’s heart abruptly skips a beat, his already radiant smile now threatening to split his face in two. What gets to him is how Cas says it, so casually, because at last, it’s _true_.

“Say that again.” Dean coaxes, a comfortable warmth spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

 _“The witch was no competition?”_ Castiel responds hesitantly, sounding puzzled.

Dean can’t help but laugh at how oblivious the angel can still be at times, but does answer him. “No… That last bit.”

A pause. And then Castiel seems to understand, because Dean hears his breath hitch at the other end of the line; he grasps what the big deal is.

 _“Oh… Home.”_ Cas says reverently, carefully, as if that word is something sacred. _“Yes, I’m home.”_

Dean bites his lip to hide another ridiculous grin. They have each other, and they have a home, and Cas thinks so too.

Meanwhile, Sam rolls his eyes at Dean from the other end of the parking lot, waving his hand in a way that clearly says _‘will you hurry the hell up’_.

 _“Dean?”_ Castiel mutters, and Dean remembers that he has yet to reply.

“Yeah, I’m here, Cas.” He confirms quietly. “But I’ll be home too… Soon.”

Less than five minutes after Dean hangs up the phone, Castiel sends him a message, a picture attached. It’s a selfie. Cas is smiling at him, from the looks of it curled up on their shared bed under a blanket, without a doubt watching one of his favorite TV shows on Dean’s laptop to pass the time until they’re together again. Dean’s favorite part is the caption.

_'Home Sweet Home.’_

**Author's Note:**

> For more Destiel stories, go to destieldrabblesdaily.tumblr.com


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